


Stellar Collision

by casastella



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casastella/pseuds/casastella
Summary: Osamu and Suna are binary stars, dancing around each other but never meeting.Until they do.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 31
Kudos: 278





	Stellar Collision

**Author's Note:**

> These two are actually the very first Haikyu pair that I thought of writing for but I didn't get around to it until I saw them animated today. (!!!)
> 
> Just a warning; I did very little research for binary star collisions so please suspend your belief in scientific facts before reading this.

Binary stars orbit around each other, never touching. Should they ever collide, a brighter star might emerge or they might be reduced to gas and atoms.

Osamu isn’t sure what _this_ will result in but he knows he orbits around Suna and Suna orbits around him. Between them are a row of tables, a net or Atsumu, oblivious to their slow gravitation. But more than the physical separation, there is the metaphysical; a taut, invisible force that he can almost feel.

Sometimes it’s Osamu keeping Suna in the corner of his eyes and on the beats of his heart. Sometimes it’s Suna’s eyes on him, and the tiniest smirk he shoots because he knows too.

Often it’s that invisible force that brings their pinkies together to brush, only to pull them away, both feigning ignorance. Osamu has memorised the coolness of Suna’s skin and roughness of callouses from that touch alone. At night Osamu is afraid to imagine those feelings elsewhere but occasionally his imagination wins.

He, Suna and Atsumu walk to the train station together after practice and Atsumu is a wall between them. Even if he pulls ahead, they leave the space empty and loaded. Sometimes Suna glances over and mimics whatever Atsumu is complaining about that day. Sometimes Suna smiles at him for no reason at all.

It’s almost a challenge. _Come closer,_ his eyes say.

Osamu smiles back to say, _Why don’t you?_

The space remains.

They eat lunch together in the class, away from the ruckus of everyone, but the path between two tables divide them. If Osamu is feeling adventurous, he’d reach over to pluck food from Suna’s lunch box. Suna used to glare but now he pushes the box towards him just the slightest bit. And if Osamu feels particularly shameless that day, he takes extra long pulling the chopsticks out of his mouth, humming around it. Suna is always shameless enough to stare.

Sometimes Suna sleeps on the table and Osamu likes to imagine the sun pouring over him at the right angles, turning little strands of hair gold like halos. He once took a photo on his phone and sent it to the team group chat with the caption ‘Sleeping beauty’, only because he wanted that photo for himself. He still has it, tucked in his Favourites among other photos of the team, most with Suna in it.

When Atsumu tosses to Suna at practice, Osamu watches carefully and ticks off the list in his mind.

1\. The bend of Suna’s toned legs before he jumps

2\. Shirt riding up to reveal sliver of pale skin

3\. The inconspicuous dance of his torso

4\. The triumphant, barely-there smile when his spike lands

5\. Wiping the sweat on his face with his shirt

6\. Glancing at Osamu to see if he was looking.

Osamu is always looking.

It’s not a problem until Atsumu finally notices in their third year.

He corners Osamu in their room, arms folded over his chest with a scowl. “When were you going to tell me?” he asks.

“I dunno what you’re talking about but never?”

“Suna? The guy you’ve been eye-fuckin’ all week?”

“Oh. Two years, actually.”

Atsumu loses it, pacing the room so furiously he just about burns a hole into the carpet. Osamu expects him to go off about being left out, to accuse Osamu of wanting to get away that badly that not only is he stopping volleyball, he’s keeping major things like this from Atsumu.

But Atsumu turns and says, “What the fuck, Samu. Two years? Why haven’t ya done anything?”

The answer is more complicated than it needs to be.

He and Suna have been orbiting each other for so long and neither has ever tried to come closer in ways that count. But whatever this is between them is working, more or less, and Osamu doesn’t want to be the one to initiate something only to find out that it doesn’t work. Or maybe Suna doesn’t want it.

Osamu answers, “I don’t want to do anything.”

Atsumu fails to understand it. He points out all of their interactions including all the high-fives or “nice serve” or the fact that Osamu would decide to take more food on some days and Atsumu finally connects on the spot that those were for Suna. He reminds them both of the time Suna hurt his shoulder and Osamu apparently acted like a concerned mother hen that week. Osamu denies doing any such thing.

Yet, his brother comes to the conclusion, “You obviously like him a lot. So what’s the problem? Are ya scared he doesn’t like ya back?”

“‘Tsumu, this is the one thing I need you to back off on. Let me handle it myself.”

By some miracle, Atsumu does. He doesn’t bring the issue up again but he does give Osamu knowing looks during practice and any other time he and Suna are together.

From then, Osamu’s thoughts start to run like a pebble kicked downhill, gaining momentum as it rolls. He goes from watching Suna tape his fingers to wanting to tape them himself, to feel each and every digit cool against his skin like he knows they are. He goes from burning Suna’s sleeping form in memory to wanting to share that table, their elbows touching.

From standing a person-width apart, Osamu finds himself inching in little by little when they walk and their hands swing between, waiting to find each other. When Suna smiles down at him as their pinkies brush, Osamu wants to yank him by the hand and see what face Suna makes when he kisses him.

“This is so painful watching you,” Atsumu laments from the bottom bunk.

Osamu ignores him in favour of sending a meme to Suna, which he knows will be appreciated.

Suna sits with him during breaks in practice when the coach drills the first and second years. Atsumu is over there too so Osamu sits right beside Suna, leaning against the gym wall. Suna’s knees are up, resting his elbows on them.

“I guess Spring High is going to be your last games,” Suna says.

“I guess so. You’ll keep playing?” He knows Suna will, overheard him talking to the others. But he likes talking to Suna.

“Definitely in university. Not sure about after though.”

“I reckon you can do pro.”

Suna cocks his head and smiles lopsidedly. “Yeah? What are you planning then?”

“I wanna open up my own shop. Onigiri or something.”

“Ah, your onigiri,” Suna murmurs. “I’m going to miss them.”

Osamu is on the verge of something here. He can feel it, the invisible force pulled so taut it would snap any second. Every moment before, he’s loosened the coil, looked away from those taped fingers, settled for stealing Suna’s food instead of sleeping beside him and shoved his hands into his pockets when they’ve reached their limit.

But Osamu feels brave today, a non-descript Tuesday afternoon at practice.

So he raises an eyebrow and says slowly, “I could come sell ‘em at your games.”

“Yeah?” Suna whispers, eyes falling Osamu’s lips. “Do I get discount?”

As an answer, Osamu leans over and kisses him. Suna is waiting, kissing back just as eagerly, and it feels like they’ve done this a thousand times before. The soft press of their lips, Suna’s hand lazily coming to find Osamu’s on the floor between them and the other on Osamu’s cheek. When they pull away, Osamu hears the word on Suna’s sigh.

_Finally._

Maybe this will work or maybe this won’t. Perhaps it will work now and not later but whatever the case, Osamu has fallen into Suna’s gravity and he is tired of resisting. When binary stars collide, they turn to dust or become more magnificent.

Osamu can’t tell yet which they would become but he likes to think they’ve collided slow enough to fuse into something more beautiful than they were alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!   
> Please come scream about Sunaosa with me on twitter [@casastella_](https://twitter.com/casastella_). PLEASE I am begging for more Sunaosa moots.


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